(Reduced from Moor’s “Hindu Pantheon.”)
The Asuras having got possession of Dhanvantari with the vessel of nectar, were preparing to defend their acquisition by force of arms, but Narayana, assuming the bewitching form of lovely Maya, easily induced the Daityas, ravished with her charms, to part with their treasure.
As soon as the deception practised upon them became apparent, the Daityas and Danavas pursued the gods, who, in the meantime, had been hurriedly taking draughts of this wonderful elixir of immortality.
Along with them a Danava, named Rahu, in the disguise of a god, was also slyly partaking of the Amrita, but, before the nectar had gone beyond his throat, he was detected by the sun and moon and had his head severed from his body by the discus of Narayana.
The severed head of Rahu was, of course, immortal, and ascended into the sky with loud cries. And ever since that eventful day it has pursued the sun and moon with revengeful feelings, swallowing them up periodically, as is evident in the solar and lunar eclipses which have attracted the awed attention of mankind through the ages.
To these events succeeded the commencement of a terrible battle between the gods on one side, and the Asuras, Daityas and the Danavas on the other. The gods, being victorious, carried the Amrita to heaven, and, “offering due respect to Mandara, placed him on his own base.”
Such, in brief, is the wonderfully grand old myth which could have been conceived by no common mind, which is still believed in, and gives rise to practices and ceremonies still observed by two hundred millions of the Indian people, for whom even now it is the malignant Rahu that periodically threatens the destruction of the greater and lesser lights of the firmament. On these dire occasions the Hindus beat their drums and blow their conchs to terrify away the demon. They throw away their earthen cooking-pots, observe a rigid fast during the period of obstruction, and crowd the bathing-places for a purifying plunge as soon as the light of sun or moon is once again fully restored to the delighted eyes of mankind.
APPENDIX III
The Story of Nala and Damayanti
There was once a powerful King of the Nishadhas, named Nala, who was as beautiful as the god of love himself. He was, moreover, an honourable man, highly accomplished, and especially well-versed in the management of horses, but he had a weakness for dice.